


Solace

by creating_constellations



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Destiel - Freeform, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Dom Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know what else to call it, Kneeling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Self Esteem Issues, Sub Dean, hair petting, it is honestly just hurt/comfort with dom/sub hints, just a scene where dean is comforted, mentions to past self harm, none occurs, there isn't actually porn in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 02:49:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10584864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creating_constellations/pseuds/creating_constellations
Summary: "It has been a long fucking day, Dean has been on the verge off losing his shit from the moment he woke up this morning. Sometimes you just wake up feeling like hell on earth and for Dean it was just one of those days."





	

**Author's Note:**

> There is mention to past self harm in this, none occurs, it is just to longing for it to occur, also low self esteem, if either of these are triggers for you, please go choose a different story !!

It has been a long fucking day, Dean has been on the verge off losing his shit from the moment he woke up this morning. Sometimes you just wake up feeling like hell on earth and for Dean it was just one of those days. Sam is out of town researching some sort of supernatural marks in Louisiana, and Cas has been out all day as well doing who knows what trying to find Lucifer’s lovechild. So Dean has been alone with his thoughts, with no distractions all day, which leads to bad things. 

A crushing weight of emotion has been suffocating his lungs all day and his self loathing thoughts, (which Dean has made a lot of stems to subside) are back with a vengeance, and with no escape from the bunker(Sammy has the Impala) he is on the verge of completely breaking down. 

He doesn’t know where this is all stemming from, maybe it is stress, maybe it just his self hatred saying “fuck you for trying to keep me contained” but he just feels so damn numb and heavy with the weight of the emotions he is all feeling at once. 

He can’t keep himself from stealing glances at the knife block in the kitchen, wanting to relieve the pressure in his chest and throat and head and just make everything feel real, but he instead covers it with a kitchen towel and he closes the kitchen door, he can't go back into that dark hole again. 

He paces the room trying to do something other than sit and hurt, because if he starts he doesn't know if he can stop from falling into the darkness. 

“God dammit this is so frustrating,” Dean exclaims and slams his hand down on the table. 

His pacing becomes quicker and angrier, and he picks up the whiskey bottle on the side table and smashes against the wall just to release some of the hurt he was feeling. Whiskey and glass spews everywhere. He picks up an empty beer bottle and throws it against the floor, and another, and another, until Dean is surrounded in a sea of glass.

He sinks to the floor no longer able hold up the weight of his body. Dean can’t even cry, he just sits there unable to get himself up again, as he feels some of the broken glass dig into his palms. 

***  
“Dean? Babe? Where are you, I got you pie,” Dean hears these words but they don’t really register who they are from, or why they are occurring. Dean has just been floating in this place of too many bad emotions where everything is completely numb. His breathing is erratic and shallow trying to breathe despite the pressure in his chest. He doesn't know how long he has been on the floor. 

“Oh Dean babe no,” the voice came again filled with sorrow this time, he knew didn't like that. Dean feels a warm hand cup his face and for the first time looks up. He stares into crystal blue eyes that he loves so much. 

“Cas” his voice comes out raspy and like he was out of breathe “help me please.”

“Shhhh baby, I got you let go it's okay,” and Cas held Dean tighter, and Dean’s whole body shook but he still couldn't cry. “I’m going to stand you up okay, and we’re gonna fix those hands,” Cas said gently and carefully helped him up. Cas was practically carrying his whole weight, as Dean’s legs were useless at the moment. 

Dean could feel the exact moment Cas saw the covered knives because he felt his body tense, but he continued to walk/carry Dean to the sink, where he with ease lifted him up on the counter and examined his hands. 

“I’m going to heal them okay babe?” Dean gave a slight nod, “and can you drink a glass of water for me baby?” Dean again gave a nod but slightly more hesitant. He focused on keeping his breathing slow and calming himself (even though it was not working very well) by looking into his boyfriend’s icy blue eyes. 

Cas got him water, put it on the counter, and gently took Dean’s hands in his; warmth rushed through them and the shallow gashes mended themselves before their eyes. Cas lifted the glass to Dean’s mouth (Dean’s body still too heavy to move) and helped him slowly drink the glass of water bit by bit. 

Dean’s ability to think sharpened a bit more but the heavy weight still made him too exhausted to want to move, or think. Cas took Dean’s face in his hands once again moving his thumb up and down in a small caress. 

“I’m gonna take you into the family room, and I’m going to take care of you okay.” Cas not even having Dean use his legs picks him up bridal style (if Dean was in a better frame of mine he would protest) and Dean just laid his head on his shoulder, taking in Cas’s scent of cinnamon.

Cas laid him down on the couch gentely, and to Dean’s surprise, Cas started to remove his clothes, Dean gaped at him in utter confusion until Cas turned to him. 

“What is you safe word.” Cas’s voice had dropped into the tone which allowed no argument, and usually that would have Dean’s dick hard in seconds but tonight really wasn't the night for that kind of thing. 

“Cas, Babe, I’m not really up for sex I-” Cas gently shushed him. 

“What is your safeword,” Cas repeated emphasizing each word.

“Impala, but Cas-” again he was interrupted. 

“Shhh, unless you are safewording, relax Dean, trust me, let me take care of you”

Dean gave a hesitant nod, trusting Cas not to do anything he couldn’t handle or did not want. Cas walked over to him, just in boxers, and took the hem of Dean’s shirt and pulled it over his head. Mumbling praises and kissing the top of Dean’s head after he did. 

When Cas reached Dean’s pants he paused, “What is your color my beautiful boy.”

“G-green Sir” Dean rasped out and Cas smiled softly, lovingly at him. 

“Good boy Dean, that's my good boy” Cas helped Dean up and methodically removed his pants, still whispering praises. 

When Dean and Cas were both only in their boxers, Cas took a pillow and put it on the floor, next to the couch, and finally Dean could see where this was going.

Cas took his finger and tilted Dean’s chin up from where it was staring down at the pillow; “You’re going to kneel on the pillow, lean against me and the only thing you need to do is let go, okay?” Dean nodded, “Good boy,” Cas praised and he helped Dean kneel down, and Cas sat on the couch next to where Dean was. 

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’s leg, and rested his head against it, relishing in the skin of skin contact. Cas grabbed the remote, and put on a nature documentary on a low volume. Cas’s hand slipped into Dean’s hair moving his hands up from where his hair met his neck. Dean stared at the television getting lost in the simplicity of the documentary (which he would usually protest against). 

Soon he felt warmth rushing down his cheeks and soon his body was wretched with sobs. They were the healing kid, the ones Dean hadn’t let himself relish in until now. Cas praised him through his sobs, stroking his hair and providing the comfort that Dean so desperately needed.

When his sobs turned to softer tears, he felt himself begin to float (in the good way this time) and the heavy empty feeling of to many emotions knotted inside, began to loosen its grip. He let the feelings of warm, safe, and calm wash over him and he sank into it. His muscles relaxed and he took steady breaths, Cas whispered praises above him but did not stop stroking Dean’s hair.

Dean stayed in the floaty place through an another documentary Cas whispering soft compliments and praise and stroking his hair. Dean began slipping back into reality slowly when the TV shut off. 

Cas continued to touch him, hands never leaving the back of his head, even when he kneeled down near Dean. 

“How you feeling babe, do you want to go into bed.” Cas asked, concern still etched across his face.

“Better babe, much better,” Dean paused and leaned forward to catch Cas in a gentle kiss, “and yes please.”

Cas picked Dean up bridal style and carried him into their room. Dean finds himself in his bed spooned in the warm embrace of his angel. Realistically he knows this isn't a panacea to his woes, and Dean is going to have to talk through his thoughts and what brought them on, but for now he is warm, safe, and happy, under the watchful eye of his guardian angel.

“I love you Cas.”

“I love you too Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first story on here was actually going to be a more lighthearted more porny fic, but it has kinda been a rough week so I worked on this instead (the other fic is still coming I just don't know when). Anyway this is my first time posting fanfic since 4 years ago (and I was never great back then) so any tips would be appriciated.
> 
> Thanks for Reading Have a Nice Day/Night


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